Unbecoming
by Captain Compass
Summary: First of the Dead Potter Chronicles. Harry unfortunately 'dies ' before receiving his letter from Hogwarts. This is a story of what caused his death. And then what happened to him next. The hiding of Harry Potter from Magical England and how he spent time before taking the Hogwarts Express. Major Dumbledore bashing. AU. No pairings. Infrequent updates.
1. Chapter 1

**Unbecoming**

Chapter 1 - A Beginning

(Disclaimer: I do not own, lease, rent or claim Harry Potter, et all. That properly belongs to J K Rowling and I thank her for adding those stories to our world. I am temporarily borrowing some of her cast of characters for an idea I've had.)

August 1, 1990

Good morning or day or night. Whatever time you are reading this. I'm starting on this project – again (Ugh). I've vanished two pages of writing already because of a total lack of organization and some bad spelling. Something I've been instructed to pay attention to. This first entry will be proofed by someone else before I'm allowed to continue writing.

My full name is Jayson Mumford Wrightson (Jay or Jamie, to my friends) and I received this journal as one of the presents for my 10th birthday. As it came from my very best friend, she thought that I might want a record of my day to day life; especially as we are both looking forward to attending Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry next year. I've found a few blank journals in the house library and will probably use one of them for the regular entries. This present will be reserved for something I consider special and private (my lives, Yes, I did say lives.). While I originally thought it may be a little girlie for a bloke to do this, I've seen and heard about such things (journals and diaries) from the adults I have had contact with. Also Uncle Cyrus and some magical paintings that I have had discussions with says it's a great way to revise my own thoughts and feelings that I've had over time.

Yes, I did write magical. I (and most of my friends now) live in a world hidden from the people without magic. The 'norms' or 'mundanes' as they say in the States. The term that most of the magicals in England refer to the rest of the population of the world is insulting and I'm not going to write it down if I have a choice. The magic that people have is explained by various theories: it is a gift from the gods, an evolutionary enhancement, or (for those born into mundane families) a fortunate combination of genes. All to use the magic that exists in and around us.

My new aunt/mum/guardian warded this book with the best spells she knows so that no one can open or read it without my permission. I hope somewhere in the future to find someone I like enough or trust enough to share my private history with. I have been fortunate to have been raised for the last two years in a magical family. They have raised me and guided me in the amazing world of magic and magical culture. Knowledge that I wasn't aware of as I was brought up in a regular household.

You may wonder at this seeming contradiction, but the truth is that I had another life and another totally different existence before the… I guess I'll call it my death and rebirth. If I've trusted you with my secret identity, you need to hear what happened to me. The other 'famous' name you know is buried for the time being. I've trained myself publicly to ignore it. Privately, it's very crucial to my future and my place in magical society when I attain the age of majority. That age of majority is a subject of debate between the kids who I hang around with, the adults I know and the few goblins that I have talked to in my dealings at Gringotts. only a few wizards and witches know about my previous name and life. Some complicated spell is protecting that knowledge from getting to others that might want to ruin my life or end it.

I'll explain that a little more about that later when I've got it straightened up in my head. There are so many different sides concerned about me because of the circumstances I find myself in.

I have some time now to start the background and story of my life tonight, but I am not sure it all can be conveyed in the time I have before I go to sleep. Since this journal has also been enchanted to add more pages to itself over time, I will try to describe who I was, am now, and who I hope to be in the future. And exactly what happened that one night in my past. My memory is intact to a certain point but after that it's just a theory.

I remember the horrible pain and all that blood. Then magic, my magic, saved my life.

And sent me to another one.

************ DPC ****************

_Aug 2, __1980_

_In the latter half of the1970's, a great war was being waged. This was not a battle of guns, bombs, and great armies struggling against each other but a battle between magical humans that lived in the island of England. A great, but evil wizard, was attempting to take over the government of the magical people and ridding the world of people that he didn't think worthy of having the gift of magic. That powerful wizard called himself Lord Voldemort. He led a group of like-minded, ruthless wizards and witches that hid their identities behind silver masks and black robes. They called themselves Death Eaters as they supposedly feasted on the life-ending suffering of those that opposed them. _

_Opposing the terrible and powerful Lord Voldemort and his followers was the Ministry of Magic which had governed magical England for many hundreds of years. Special agents of the Ministry of Magic called Aurors and Hit Wizards defended the Ministry and magical people against the dark forces that Voldemort led._

_Also opposing those terrorists was the most powerful wizard in England (or maybe in the world) Albus Dumbledore. He had distinguished himself by defeating the previous Dark Lord to help end the planet wide conflict called World War II. _

_After that earlier war between good and evil, Dumbledore was awarded high honors and became the most respected wizard in England and regarded as the most powerful wizard in the magical world. He was chosen for the highest important responsibilities that included the Supreme Mugwump of the International Council of Wizardry, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot (the ruling body of magical England) and the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witches. _

_(condensed summary : Chapter 15, __A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. I think this fulfills(?) the History portion of the writing Mum. I was encouraged to include real facts to understand the past and the part of it my family(s__) plays. And my role(s).)_

_********** DPC**********_

My first parents were married six months after they graduated from Hogwarts. He was a well-respected Auror, think magical policeman, that came from a very, very long line of magical people. My mother, on the other hand, was a first-generation witch meaning both her parents were ordinary mundanes. That fact brought her a lot of attention at Hogwarts, most of the bad sort originally. Some of her classmates disapproved or even hated the fact that she could perform magic. A faction of traditional family's opinion on the world was that anything the came from the other(mundane) world was inferior and that some witch or wizard that had zero or one parent that was normal was a crime that went unpunished.

My mother threw that bigoted idea back into those faces, becoming one of the most talented and powerful witches of her generation. She was so good at her studies that she was chosen to be Head Girl in her 7th year and was assigned special quarters to make it easier to handle her responsibilities. It was no small accomplishment as the choosing of the Head Girl and Head Boy was reserved for the very best and brightest.

(However it happened, it was my father that was chosen to be Head Boy that same year. The private quarters, with two suites and a common area, must have given them many opportunities to converse and form a stronger bond between them. I'm not going to even think about what other things might have been going on between them there also.)

Anyway, I came along a little over two years later after they graduated. My dad and his very best (?) friend had risen very rapidly in the ranks of Aurors, engaging the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort multiple times. My mother assisted my dad as she could, but she was also working on her Masteries in Charms and Potions under the guidance of a few professors at Hogwarts. Despite talking to some of her friends and instructors about her, I'm still uncertain whether she was preparing to teach at Hogwarts, was working to establish her own business or some other option that I'm not aware of. I hope my parents both had journals or diaries in the family vault that I will gain access to when I get older.

My parents and I went into hiding at one point because Lord Voldemort had focused on plans to remove many people that stood directly in his way. Especially those that survived encounters with him or his followers. He focused his attacks on the Ministry leaders and those Aurors that resisted him.

He attacked my family and killed my parents on Halloween – October 31st, 1981. I survived that encounter as most know but I was immediately placed into a location and situation that also placed my future in jeopardy.

I WAS Harry James Potter, and this is how I died. And what happened to me next.

********DPC********

_The Very Private Journals of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_Pensieve Memory Summary: 12-37_

_December 31, 1937_

_I made the acquaintance of a potentially remarkable wizard today in doing my duties for Hogwarts. My task was_ _bringing the invitations for Hogwarts to_ the muggleborn around _London. In a rundown orphanage in one of the seedier districts_ of the _West End, I met young Thomas Marvalo Riddle._

_My pretense of investigating a lost heir of a well-to-do family gave the matron of the facility enough interest to inform me a little of his history and behavior. When I assured her that her warnings about his character would not deter me from my search, she led me to the boy's room in the back of the building on the second floor._

_It did not take me more than a few seconds to look around the room and in young Tom's mind to see that he was a very powerful wizard for his age. He also had the temperament and attitude to be the epitome of a true Slytherin leader._

_He recognized me quickly as a person who had the sort of special powers as himself. He exclaimed in delight about the explanation of the difference between himself and the other occupants of the orphanage. That he would be trained to control his abilities and grow in power and knowledge brought a very sly smile to his face. I warned Mr. Riddle about the consequences of overstepping his boundaries and the resulting problems that might happen should he continue the stealing and bullying of his fellow orphans. He was quite contrite that his 'habits' had been discovered but promised to do better in the future._

_As I had many more invitations to deliver, I could not stay as long as I wanted with the young sorcerer. However I was happy to leave that place, as I had found a key player in my plan for the Greater Good! _

********* DPC ********

August 15, 1990

I have been lucky that I have some pictures of my parents from when they attended Hogwarts up to the time that they were advised to go into hiding. (Something I still do not understand, as I've been told that the wards at Potter Manor rivalled those protecting Hogwarts.) Most are from friends of my parents and were taken while they were students, and some are from the time when they were married and had me.

I see the family resemblance to my parents when I look at those pictures. I had a mess of dark hair upon my head that didn't surrender to a comb or brushes efforts. (My hair now is a light brown due to some mundane procedures.) Ig bore a strong resemblance to my father but the significant difference I had to him was the emerald green eyes of my mother. Something very distinctive which are now disguised by colored contact lenses. A simple but effective solution that would stand up to a spell that look for a magical glamour.

It was decided very soon after I left the Dursleys behind that any chance I would have to enjoy a normal childhood, could only be made by disguising myself. Although no other persons were present in the house in Godric's Hallow the night my parents died, my description soon made its way into common knowledge. For someone that supposedly was in hiding from the followers of Voldemort, having my features written about and displayed in a series of juvenile adventure books with my face on their covers seems to me to be defeating the effort at obscurity. (The Goblins tell me I must wait until I am 14 to demand a cut of the profits of those books since whatever person wrote (is writing) those books did so without my knowledge and approval. The person helping lead the magical world appointed himself my magical guardian He, of course, has never informed me about this. He also never checked up on me after he abandoned me on the Dursley's stoop. My new Mum is a much better person and family than who was "looking out for me" before.)

Half of those pictures I have of my family were taken with one or both parents holding me. The others were taken with friends of my family, especially my father's 3 closest friends (The Marauders) or in rare social meetings that happened in spite of the threat of the Dark Lord and his followers.

********DPC********

_The Very Private Journals of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_Pensieve Memory Summary: 8-80_

_August 14, 1980_

_The monthly meeting of the Order welcomed two unofficial young Lions tonight. Neville Franklin Longbottom was presented with much pride by his parents, Frank and Alice. Harry James Potter, born one day later than Scion Longbottom, was also welcomed to the meeting held at Prewitt Manor. During the break for refreshments I had the opportunity to briefly hold each child and clandestinely measured the levels of magical potential each boy held. Both boys rated very high on that scale and I only deliberated for a matter of seconds before confirming my suspicions about the two progenies. Both would have to be bound magically in certain ways to prevent them from realizing their potential. The young Longbottom to grow up shy, awkward and insecure would keep him in the background until he had long graduated from Hogwarts._

_Young Master Harry would be the perfect poster boy for the side of the Light. With very little manipulating on my part, the betrayal of the Potter adults would confirm the prophesy I had Imperiused Sybil Trelawney into saying before witnesses. The Potter fortune would go a long way into funding my plan for the Greater Good of Magical England (and myself of course)._

_Luckily, I have in my possession the remarkable Invisibility Cloak that the Potter family owned. It has been handed down from generation to generation for almost all of recorded history. A small unnoticeable compulsion spell cast on James made him more than willing to aid my tracking down of the Dark Forces. It may take many discrete visits to the Longbottom and Potter nurseries to properly prepare and constrict the abilities of my two future students until such time as they are needed to fight Tom Riddle for the benefit of the magicals._

_********** DPC**********_

(Authors Note. I'm attempting to make this mostly Harry's viewpoint, although Dumbledore's thoughts may show up from time to time to see what his plans really were. This may or may not work out well, but we'll see how it goes until Harry (Jayson) receives his Hogwarts letter.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Unbecoming**

Chapter 2 – A Platform Experience

Sept 1, 1990

I had my first glimpse of the Hogwarts Express this morning at Platform 9¾. I guess Dora had heard me saying (not bugging her like she claimed) that I would like to see her head off for Hogwarts because I had missed it the year before. Whatever the reason, Aunt Andie asked and received permission for me to floo to King's Cross with her and her daughter this morning. She would then bring me home before she had to report to St. Mungo's for her turn as one of the Emergency Room Healers.

Dora didn't ask but just grabbed me around the waist as she threw the floo powder in the hearth and yelled out the destination – King's Cross. (Despite having tried determinedly for over a year, my solo attempts at floo travel _always_ ended up with me falling on my face or bum and sometimes taking out innocent bystanders.) I think part of my problem with this form of magical travel is watching all the grates fly by while not looking ahead to the one I want to arrive at.

I almost pulled Dora over as we emerged from the floo, but she just laughed and swung us around once until I found my balance again. She was still laughing as she started greeting her housemates as they went by us. When Aunt Andie emerged from her trip, she gave me a once over to make sure I was clear of ashes and dirt. I had an unfortunate occasion once of having a cinder fall into my right eye once and it took almost a quarter-hour of flushing the eye out before I could see properly again. I'm afraid I then lost touch with everything else by staring at the Hogwarts Express. It was an old, but massive, steam engine in scarlet and black with the Number 5372 proudly mounted on the front of the engine above the cow catcher. I must have muttered that out loud because I was immediately corrected.

"Wait, troll catcher?" I asked Aunt Andie.

"About every five years or so one of those beasts either wanders its way to or sleeps on the tracks. The catcher just kind of pushes them aside without disrupting the trip."

Her little smile didn't give a hint of whether she was taking the mickey out of me or not. Dora turned and gave her mother a combined kiss and hug and messed up my hair a little. "You know, there's no change in your looks, no matter what we do to that mess."

"At least my hair color doesn't change every time a mouse runs by" I answered as I gave her a hug while quietly grabbing her belt. Her hair changed to match mine for two seconds while she stuck out her tongue at me. She smiled and started heading for the express but didn't feel me attached to her. She stumbled as I pulled her off balance and turned towards me with a glare.

"Have a nice time at Hogwarts this year **_Nymph-a-do-ra_ **and don't forget to owl me" I yelled as I went and hid behind her mother.

"That will cost you two weeks of owls Jaybird!"

We both laughed as she blew me a kiss before climbing into one of the cars. I turned around and looked at the frowning face of my Aunt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause a scene."

"Oh it's okay, you two were fine. It's just a little hard saying goodbye for a while. Each year."

"Yeah, but you know she'll send you an owl either tomorrow or the next day with all the updates and gossip she's heard on the Express or at the Welcoming Feast."

"Yes, and probably some suggestions for paybacks on you for using her proper name in public."

"Oops!" I must have flinched because Aunt Andie just laughed and pull me around in front of her. She waved her hand to taking in all the people milling around on the platform. "I promise I'll let 'Tonks' pay you back herself when she comes home for the holidays. Let's try identifying some of these. I know you read the Prophet every morning so some of those people in the pictures might be here. I'll go first; see that tall bald man over there? He's an Auror named Kinsley Shacklebolt. He was a rookie that your dad and his friends trained years ago. Your turn."

It took a fair bit of looking to identify some of Dora's friends that hadn't boarded the train yet, but I found people that worked in the Ministry of Magic or were family friends. Aunt Andie complimented me on my sharp eyes, and we quit the game as it seemed most of the people left on the platform were either parents or youngsters that might attend Hogwarts next year or soon after.

A lot of windows were down on the cars and the students were exchanging goodbyes when a sudden commotion came from the floo station behind us. A trio of redheads were trying to load up carts with their trunks. While they were doing that, I mentally sorted the other gingers of that family that was escorting the three students. The father was a bit on the taller side although his red hair had started to thin a little. The female that I assumed was the mother was a little shorter than most of the three students and had a darker auburn hair color. She was firmly holding the holding the hand of smaller girl who might be seven or eight if I was any judge of age. The last redhead had stopped in the middle of the platform and you could see his mouth drop open as he tried to take in everything at once.

('I guess that's what I must have looked like when I first got here' I thought.)

I turned to Aunt Andie for an explanation and she just smiled back at me. "That's the Weasley family. We run into them occasionally at functions. Molly and Arthur are the parents. Believe it or not they have had 7 children; the oldest two have graduated Hogwarts already and found jobs overseas. I see only three with trunks so the youngest two will be going to Hogwarts maybe next year or soon after. I wish I could tell you their names, but I can never keep them straight except for the littlest one – her name is Guinevere, I think. Arthur is the head of a small department in the Ministry and I think those twins are the ones that Dora complained about pulling all those pranks on everyone last year."

I smiled as I remembered all the stories Dora had told me about the Weasley pranksters that were in Gryffindor House. I would have to keep an eye out for them next year. "Even with 5 children still in the house, it must be chaos getting everyone fed or do something together" I said with a wondering voice.

"Yes, that's probably the reason they have the reputation of being near late getting to the express every year" Andie replied with a wink at me.

We both giggled a bit at that and moved quickly to the floos as the Hogwarts Express blew a long whistle and started leaving the station.

********DPC****

2nd entry Sept 1, 1990 (10:00 pm)

I've finished my homework assignment, but the excitement of this morning must have affected me enough that even a cup of hot cocoa that Bitty brought me didn't lull me into sleep. So I stay up a little writing.

In case you haven't met her yet, Bitty is Mum's house elf. She has been with Mum for ages and was very patient when I first arrived here to begin my recuperation. While I'm sure I had asked her hundreds of questions, she was very happy to inform a 'young one' about House Elves and other magical creatures. She is unofficially in charge of me when Mum is otherwise occupied and I'm very careful to ask permission for exploring the grounds or the family library. She also has taken me to friend's houses and back before I could successfully(?) use the floo.

I meant to write about my memory tonight. I don't wish to sound like I'm bragging but I think my memory is pretty good for a kid my age. I identified 8 adults this morning that I knew about from reading the Daily Prophet or had seen around some of the birthday parties I've been to over the last two years. It's complicated. My memory, I mean. Of course anything connected to me must have a reason to not be normal. It was somehow broken up into stages that were explained to me by Aunt Andromeda and the goblin Healer Wingroot when I impossibly violated Gringott's wards on my 'death'. I'll get around to describing that somewhere during these writings.

I thought I had some memories of my life with my first Mum and Dad before I came to the Dursleys. I can fuzzily remember my Mum's red hair and her eyes that were exactly like mine when I take my contacts out. I remember a little about my Dad, but it was connected to animals somehow. A big deer, a wolf, a black dog and an ugly little rat. I remember I didn't like the rat much. (I wonder it the other 3 squished or ate it?)

For the night where my family was murdered, I remember some yelling from both my parents and the door to my room being blasted down. A scary man had entered and threw my mum on the floor and waved his wand at her. I remember crying when she didn't get up and then that man (wizard I found out later) pointer his wand at me. I saw a green flash and didn't remember much else for a while. The next thing I kind of remember was floating along through the clouds while a very big hairy man steered the vehicle (motorcycle) along while talking to me.

The events I just described were replayed in my dreams for a long time, and I suffered the consequences of waking my aunt, uncle and cousin when I cried out in fear and panic. When even I got tired of being punished for such an outlandish dream, I tried explaining what the dream was to my relatives. Uncle Vernon yelled at me for being freakish and I was locked in my cupboard for 3 days with only a bucket to relieve myself in and a few morsels of stale or rotten food that were thrown in for me. (When they were feeling generous.)

School, when I finally got to attend was another matter. Dudley had gone to school for 4 days before a school official had come knocking at the Dursley's door. Aunt Petunia stuck to the feeble excuse of one Harry Potter being too sick to attend school at this time. When the lady saw me standing at the top of the stairs, she told Aunt Petunia that without a valid excuse from a proper doctor or nurse, the school would sent a Bobbie around to escort me to school the next day if I didn't show up in the morning with my cousin for class. My aunt threatened with the embarrassment of a public 'event' reassured the person that I would be in attendance the next day. Needless to say, there was a bit of discussion when both Dudley and Uncle Vernon were informed over supper that night. Dudley protested and asked why he couldn't go to a different school than the 'freak' and Vernon loss his temper at all the extra trouble my living cost them.

I was braced in my cupboard so that when I heard Uncle Vernon's chair scraped across the floor, I was ready(?) when a pudgy hand threw open the door and grabbed me up by the scruff of the neck to inform me how I was to curtail my freakishness at school and not bring any attention to their family. (_Not our family, __their__ family!)_ I nodded and was then thrown back in the cupboard under the stairs and locked in. Dudley yelled at me as he was passing by toward bed, that I (Harry) would be very sorry I had to go to school with him.

I found out the next day what he meant. Not only did he tell and shove all my new classmates away from me, but I found out that his close friends were totally happy at continuing the verbal and physical assaults on my being. At least that first day, the teacher explained to me what my name was after I couldn't respond to the roll call. That was the only good spot for me – probably for the whole blessed year.

I did very well on my tests for a while but found out there were problems when I did better than Dudley. I was accused of cheating and using my freakiness to surpass him and punished most horridly for that. After that, I kept myself from outperforming my cousin as long as I was in primary.

(Note to anyone reading this, Dudley was the moon and stars to my adult relatives. He could do no wrong and any problems that occurred to him were my fault or the low-quality teachers that _Dudley_ had to deal with. He almost got left back in 2nd year but the teacher had an unfortunate accident and couldn't defend his opinion to the school council.

I gained an appreciation for education and books while I was in primary but had to keep any evidence of that hidden. My aunt and uncle never knew how many hours I spent hiding in the school library hiding from Dudley and his gang and "Harry-hunting".

Meanwhile I was continuing to do all the chores at 4 Privet Drive, cooking the morning and evening meals, working outside at all sorts of jobs I was really too little to do and keeping myself as out of sight of my relatives as possible. It was a position of tiredness and misery and I really couldn't see any escape from there in the immediate future. Or any future.

If I had one.

********DPC********

_Dumbledore_

_Pensieve Memory Summary: 8-72_

_August 31, 1972_

_An anniversary of sorts. My sixteenth year as Headmaster but the crucial sorting that would determine most of the magical family interactions for the next decade._

_I had checked the condition of the school wards yesterday and remained satisfied that the ones that I had let lapse from Headmaster Dippet's term had remained inactive. Not anything potentially harmful but some that would interfere with the plan I had for the Greater Good for Magical England. While cooperation and cordialness may have been a good idea for the previous headmaster, I thought that it encouraged sloth and a distinct lack of drive for the individual students._

_I have charmed the benches in the Great Hall with two suggestions that will not deter any deep romantic feelings between students in different house but will make that effort something to achieve instead of something that might happen naturally. The two mild, unnoticeable charms are:_

_(1) Loyalty to your Housemates above almost all else, and_

_(2) Trust in the Headmaster_

_In addition to these general helpers, additional charms have been cast into the benches of Gryffindor and Slytherin. This is to heighten the antagonism between the two most volatile of the four houses. This will sort out sides between good and evil and give me a chance to save the lives and souls of those that would fall into the Dark Arts or under the influence of a Dark Leader/Lord. It is imperative that I be recognized for my compassion and understanding for the Greater Good of all Magical England._

_The sorting tonight was most important to my plans._

_James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and Lily Evens were sorted into Gryffindor. A Dark Family member addition to that House would probably result in young Sirius being expelled from the Black Family and into a closeness with the young James Potter. Miss Evans and Mr. Lupin would have naturally been sorted into Ravenclaw, but this will accomplish a few additional benefits for the Greater Good as the years progressed._

_Miss Evens was separated from her childhood friend Mr. Snape and their rift will eventually push her into the besotted (and potioned) arms of James Potter, the future husband. Mr. Shape will come under the influence of the Slytherins and he may eventually become my eyes and ears in that House._

_Mr. Lupin's condition will be supported and protected (if not outwardly) by the scion of a well-established Pureblood Family. His gratitude toward me will extend far into the future for allowing him the opportunity to be educated and finding lifelong friends._

_Mr. Pettigrew has a weak sense of self-work and magical ability. Sorting him into Hufflepuff would have given him friends and a rise in his confidence which would not allow me the opportunity to influence his later actions._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – The Old Place

Sept 13th, 1990

Sorry I haven't got back to this before now, but Mum and I have been busy. She's been teaching her classes at school and remaining there four nights a week to be available in case of any problems that the Head Girl and Boy, any of the prefects, or her House students have. A few of the other teachers have a home life and responsibilities that they can't ignore for the 9 months Hogwart's is in session.

Madame Pomfrey, for example, is continuing studying medicine in her spare time and flooing to St. Mungo's for consultations and updates on the latest spells and magical treatments. A ward apparently let's her know if anyone comes into the medical wing with an injury after hours. (I suppose the floo point in her office has extra charms that prevent any soot or sicknesses from reaching the students.)

Madame (Mrs.?) Pince, the librarian, lives in Hogsmeade and spends her evenings and nights in a little cottage somewhere behind the Post Office but not all the way up to the Hog's Head Inn and Pub. I don't know about any of the other staff since it's not a thing that usually comes in conversations with Mum.

I am continuing with my regular (muggle) education as well as learning some magical lessons. I'm officially(?) being Home- Schooled on the mundane side with assignments sent in on a weekly basis. For the magical side I'm being educated on magical culture and beginning magical theory and spells. The Latin isn't so bad but I'm unsure if it's in the curriculum for the other 10-year old's. Knowing Hermione as I do now, she probably started studying that subject at her home to make it easier to understand her parent's medical books. (I'll write about my first meeting with my best friend at another time as the consequences of that meeting, as happy as it was, led to the change of homes for me.)

Homes. I mentioned 4 Privet Drive once in my last bit of writing. I suppose I should write down more about that place before I hopefully forget everything about it. Privet Drive is still in the town of Little Whinging in the county of Surrey. For those that might get easily lost (and I know of a couple people like that), Surrey is a little southwest of Greater London(downtown) between Heathrow and Gatwick airports. The Thames River runs through part of the area and my old neighborhood is north of the river.

(The exact location of the house at #4 Privet Drive is still listed as an unsolved mystery at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Little Whining Constabulary Office #3.)

As far as I can find out, Little Whinging was one of many satellite communities that were built after World War II. Nothing important about that fact but the rate of construction was fast with huge farming and undeveloped acreages transformed into streets and streets of similar looking houses. There are occasional differences in that some houses in my former development. Most had two stories of bricks and some had one story with the upper story constructed of other materials. Schools and parks were laid out in places with some lots and areas open for bigger houses or more specialized business.

Number 4 Privet Drive was a regular looking place, not very distinguishable from any of the other house located on the street. One story of brick with the second painted a smart white that had yellowed a bit with age. A detached garage for one car and a storage shed for some tools was included in the buying price. A wooden fence surrounded the property and I was responsible for maintaining it and keeping it painted. (You're right; I didn't like it then and the memory of it still stirs angrily deep in my heart).

There was a basic layout at #4 that may or may not have been universal along those tract homes (since I didn't get to see the insides of many other houses other than the Dursley's). Three bedrooms and a full bath upstairs. A kitchen, dining area and living room downstairs; a coat closet and half loo downstairs and stairs leading up to the first floor and down to a full basement where the furnace, washer and dryer were kept (and used by me almost exclusively after I was 6 years old).

There was one place I just missed listing and I hope you won't think badly of me for initially omitting it. My living (Hah!) quarters (**Double Hah!**). The little closet under the stairs where I now understand cleaning supplies, miscellaneous clothes and spare knickknacks are kept stored for whatever reason. That was my bedroom, jail, recovery room, church, and meditation chamber. A space 2½ meters long, a third meter low at one end and 1¾ meter high on the other. Room for a makeshift bed with threadbare blankets at the low end and a salvaged dresser of sorts at the other to store all the hand-me-downs from Dudley that my aunt and uncle so generously gave me.

I just thought of something that may be horrible or maybe enlightening (is that the right word I'm looking for?). Aunt Petunia grew up with my Mum and probably saw or experienced some of the accidental magic that happened to her as they grew up. Accidental magic is unintended and inadvertent magic in children caused by high emotions or as a means of self-defense. (My surprise ending up on the school roof during my second year while evading 'Harry Hunting' was finally explained to me one dreary afternoon over tea by Mum.)

Anyway, the point I suddenly thought of is whether Aunt Petunia remember accidental magic and whether she and Uncle Dudley deliberately kept me working, beaten, and underfed to stop accidental magic from occurring. It is another explanation to them just hating me. Which I never understood. Even after two years absence, I'm still coming to terms with the treatment I received from them compared to what they gave my cousin Dudley. Part of me still wants to blame myself for what happened to them, but I've been reassured from Mum, Uncle Ted and numerous others that I was just a victim and that the resulting outcome was not my fault but karma, justice or a magical payback of sorts. It certainly wasn't anything deliberate on my part as I was totally unconscious by then.

Back to Privet Drive. My aunt and uncle were concerned and conscious of their social standing in the neighborhood. You may substitute snobbish at any point for their outward behavior. They were very insistent on maintaining the best possible showing of their house, grounds, and appearance. That's where I came in. I mowed the lawn, washed and waxed the car, weeded the garden and manicured the roses and other fancy plants that Aunt Petunia chose to be planted to impress the passing pedestrians and motorists. She was the one that wanted the trophies and neighborhood honors that might come with 'Best Garden' or 'Most Presentable Yard' in the yearly local competitions. I held no grudges for her winning as it usually meant a meal or two for me that might let me feel as if I wasn't starving or drinking something that wasn't tepid water.

Somehow my toil, sweat and hours outside #4 didn't go totally unnoticed by some of the people in the neighborhood. A few people who weren't intimidated by my relatives claims of madness and criminal behavior called to ask for an occasional bit of my time to help them out with special projects or last-minute situations. They even offered to pay me a bit for my time although my Aunt and Uncle usually held out for a bigger bit of cash or no payment at all as "The boy needs to work the ugliness out of him".

I worked hard without complaining when I worked for other people. Complaining resulted in punishments at the Dursleys; a lesson that I learned early in my life there. But, paid or not, I had to turn out my pockets once I got back to the Dursleys to prove that I wasn't robbing them of money. I needed to pay them back for providing me with room and board. A 'great expense' that was mentioned (or shouted at me) almost every day.

A few neighbors who didn't believe the stories the Dursleys spread about me and paid me anyway. My dear cousin Dudley was almost always around after I had finished at any neighbors to threaten me and confiscate any money I might have earned before I could turn it over to my aunt or uncle. He repeated back the words Uncle Vernon yelled at me: "freaks didn't need to buy anything for their selves".

Mrs. Figg (bless her heart and many cats) kept a glass jar in her kitchen that she put my pay in for the days I worked there. When she babysat me, I could sometimes go buy some candy or other treats for myself. The widow Nelson brought down her dead husband's bike for me to use one summer. When I protested the gift, she called Aunt Petunia and made it clear to her that it was a 'loan' for the summer and expected it back in the same condition in the fall. She told me she had seen Dudley pushing me around once, and she thought that would keep the bike (and me!) from being damaged while I rode it.

There were four playgrounds in the neighborhood. Two were at the local schools; my school, Whinging Primary and the Little Whinging Free Academy. There was a little park near downtown Little Whinging that was more geared for adults and picnicking than for children. A last park was named the Nelson Greenway as it was on the Thames. It was a small hike to get there but I was guaranteed not to have Dudley and his gang (Piers Polkiss, Jackie Sparrow and, sometimes, Ed Blackadder) bother me there. It was way too far for Dudley to walk there (and back)!

For as much as you have read from me, it probably isn't a surprise that I never understood my treatment from my only surviving relatives. I tried every way I knew to be become respectable in their eyes. To garner the unending love and approval that Dudley freely got. But I only received criticism and abuse mentally, physically and socially. Growing up lonely, without a friend to talk to, to laugh with or play. That was rough. To feel the depths of that burden that a young child should never have to experience. I never understood why the Dursleys never put me up for adoption or dropped me off at an orphanage as soon as I was left on their doorstep.

Sorry, too much for being a Gloomy Gus, my circumstances have changed much for the better and I can say that I do not miss growing up at Privet Drive at all.

I know what you might be thinking but it is much too late for paying the Dursleys back. I have this satisfying mental image of Lily Evans Potter chasing her sister around the hereafter with a megaphone and yelling out Aunt Petunia's treatment of me for everyone to hear. Endless mortification on Aunt Petunia's part along with an occasional sharp stinging hex to her horse-like face.

(That wasn't very nice of me to actually write down and I wish to formally apologize to horses everywhere now.)

Many people have told me my father was quite the prankster while he attended Hogwarts. So I hope Uncle Vernon is experiencing every little bit of James Potter's creative mind.

_But now:_

I live in a nice two-level cottage in the town of Galashiels, which is almost due south of Edinburgh, and halfway to the Northumberland National Park. It's on the A7 and a British Railway main line. For a town of about 10,000 people there's a lot of history, sights and businesses for an 11-year-old to investigate, accompanied of course. Our address here is…. I probably should not write that down. My friends, on both sides of the magical world, send me enough letters and owls to keep me in contact well enough. And there's always floo visits.

My eyelids have been getting heavier for the last 10 minutes and I'll put this away while I'm still writing at least a little coherently. The subject for the next time will probably start the unusual story of how I'm here now instead of there.

********DPC********

_The Personal and __**Private**__ Journal of __Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_Aug 8__th__, 1984_

_THRICE CURSED MUGGLES ! _

_I was awakened at 4:20 this morning as a pair of the alarms I have tied to Potter and his muggle residence sounded. As I found my glasses, I tried to remember what each of the alarms going off meant. It had been a long time since they had sounded out so._

_The repeated Chep,Chep, Chep, Chep, Chep meant that the blood wards surrounding the Dursley's House had lowered by the absence of the boy from the domicile. Mrs. Figg had not let me know of any plans for the family to go on holidays and the time wasn't exactly the best time to commence traveling._

_The deep barroom, barroom, barroom meant that the boy had been transferred to another's custody. Which shall not continue! If the boy has been captured by Death Eaters, they shall pay the ultimate penalty for interfering in my Grand Plan._

_I roused Fawkes from his slumbers and asked him to take me to Harry Potter. The bird stared at me incredulously for a moment, perhaps because of the early hour but pivoted on his stand to offer me his tail feathers._

_A second of flame travel later, we appeared on the front steps of a run-down brownstone in central London. Staring at the sign above the white door, I understood what had happened. Again, the adult Dursleys had overcome the compulsion charms placed upon them and had tried dumping young Potter at an orphanage. They had chosen the East_ End Juvenile Mission_ this time, a location as far opposite the Dursley's home as was possible in a two-hour drive._

_It was the matter of a minute or so to enter the establishment, reclaim the boy, and obliviate the Night Matron of her memories of the last hour. I left her asleep and apparated directly into the living room of #4 Privet Drive._

_Reassuring myself that the blood wards had not been totally destroyed by the boys' brief absence, I cast Notice-Me-not Charms on myself. It was a slightly uncomfortable wait until the three Dursleys arrived back home. The pudgy little muggle boy was yelling, demanding breakfast when I chose to reveal myself and the Potter boy._

_The smiles and smug looks of the adult Dursleys fled rather quickly as they saw the disgust on my face._

"_I warned you the last time. You couldn't even take care of the boy for a week before you took him to the nearest orphanage. I know when you leave your nephew elsewhere. You cannot hide that!"_

"_But…but…" sputtered out the obese man"_

"_SIT DOWN…NOW!"_

_The two adults scuttled rapidly to find the nearest seat while the chubby child waddled back from the kitchen eating from a package of biscuits and quietly sat on the floor next to his mother._

"_Perhaps an additional compensation of an extra 150 pounds a month will do the trick" I proposed._

"_300! And not a shilling less!" _

"_Vernon!"_

"_SILENCE! _**Imperio!** _You will remember that we negotiated a 150 pound increase in Harry's 'rent' and you are happy about that. You will continue to provide a roof over Potter's head and food and clothing for him. Is that understood?"_

"_Yes." "Yes!"_

_I stood up to leave and made another promise to the Dursley's that any future changes to Harry's home would have them facing magical punishment. Petunia fainted at that and Vermin eyes threatened to bulge totally out of his face._

_I returned to Hogwarts and it took almost a full pot of tea to calm me down so I could take up my other duties again. I wrote a reminder to myself that the money taken from Harry Potter's trust fund vault would have to sadly increase. Luckily it's not my money!_

_THRICE CURSED MUGGLES ! _


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Incidents and accidents

Sept 16, 1990

_Whoa! That was S-T-R-A-N-G-E !_

It's a quarter to three and there's no one awake here, just little old me. I sent Bitty back to her bed when she popped in asked if I needed anything.

The problem that woke me up wasn't physical; it was just a nightmare. Not the usual one where I hear Mum Potter begging for my life and seeing a bright green light silencing her and then another hitting me.

This was one I hadn't had before. Oh, it started out as semi-normal. Dudley chasing me around the schoolyard, threatening me with punches and beating the 'freakiness' out of me. (With Dudley's size, I never had any problem outrunning him if he was alone.) Then, in my dream, Dudley's gang joined in the fine sport of 'Harry Hunting'. Then the other children at school gave chase! In the dream, I could not remember whether they were cheering Dudley on or rooting for my escape.

Well, _un-naturally_, all the teachers soon joined chase after all the children, all the while yelling out trying to get the pursuit to stop. The crowd soon left the schoolgrounds and began winding through the small streets of Little Whinging. The passing houses soon began discharging their owners to add to the chase with Dudley, his gang, our classmates and teachers. I remember looking back (in my dream) and thinking that, aside from the bright daylight, it could have been a scene out of any Frankenstein movie I'd ever caught a glimpse of. An angry mob intent on capturing the evil creature that was trying to escape them. There were sticks and stones being thrown in my general direction and some of the adults were brandishing shovels, rakes and other instruments of destruction, mayhem, and injury.

I tripped somehow over one of the many dogs that had joined in the chase. As I was falling in my dream, I fell out of bed and had a very bumpy awakening as I hit the floor. It took more than a few moments to regain my senses and for my racing pulse to slow back down to normal. Seeing that I was totally awake (and probably not able to go back to sleep for a while), I brought out this journal and turned on the light over my desk to write for a bit.

I may have given whoever reads this the impression that I was totally blameless for the way I was treated by the Dursleys. I would never consciously try to antagonize any of the three of them, but I certainly heard enough about my 'freaky' history once I had thought about all the shouting and other types of abuse that was heaped on me. It all started in the darkest of mornings. Headmaster Dumbledore left me on the Dursley doorstep in the middle of the night on November 1,1981. I was in a bundle of blankets with just a brief letter from the Headmaster explaining the circumstances of my appearance on their doorstep. I have been told by an eyewitness there that the Headmaster did not cast a warming charm on me, my blankets or the stoop I was laid upon.

And it was November 1st (a very chilly morning I assume). It was quite a shock for my Aunt Petunia to open the front door that morning and find me floating knee high and having some nightbirds flying around my blankets. She told me many times that it was only an alignment of 'unnatural occurrences' that the Dursleys weren't turned into the authorities right then for child neglect. A flat tire had delayed the milkman for a considerable time and a small gas leak in the neighborhood had diverted most of the morning traffic away from Privet Drive to Wisteria Way. A family scene was avoided and then "the real problem had to be dealt with."

As much as they wanted to, the Dursleys couldn't hide the fact that another child had come to be at 4 Privet Drive. The story that was made up and spread was that the Dursleys (out of the goodness and kindness of their hearts) had stepped forward to take the orphan into their home. Also spread about (subtlety) at that time was the story that the nephew's parents were wasteabouts, drunken, poor people without a redeeming social standing or habits. Gossip being what it is, everyone knew the poor circumstances of my birth and arrival into the neighborhood.

I had neither the knowledge or ability to dispute this 'fact' as it was repeated to me everyday by either Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon. My appearances in public were both rare and unflattering. My hair was never neat, and I was given Dudley's old or worn out clothing to dress in. I was told I wasn't deserving of new clothes as I was a 'freak' and they were spending what little money they had just to feed me.

When I arrived at my new home, I immediately created a dilemma for my magic hating relatives. I had arrived with a self-cleaning pair of nappies, a useful item created for new magical mothers. I supposed I lasted a few days with them before my Aunt Petunia thought it was a very useful piece of clothing for her son Dudley. That didn't work so well, I've been told. The spell on those particular pair of cloths ended when they came in contact with my cousin's broad behind. The spell, I've found out, relies a little of the magic of the person wearing the item. When Uncle Vernon came home that afternoon and lifted little Dudley out of his highchair, he found out that the brilliant idea had done a runner and he had to send his favorite suit out to the cleaners(twice!). Of course, THAT was directly _MY_ fault and I was banished back to my pile of blankets in the cupboard under the stairs.

Dudley had spent a lovely year before I arrived being pampered and being the center of attention. My arrival certainly brought an unnecessary person into his little world. He neither understood the concept of sharing or, didn't want to see me having anything. Especially since he thought he owned everything in the world.

Food, toys, attention from his mother – Dudley complained loudly about anything that had to do with me. All the toys in the house were his of course and he screamed loudly even if he saw me even looking at them. Or actually touching them, whether he was playing with a specific toy or not. I'm sure there were cases of juvenile accidental magic on my part to summon one or more of Dudley's playthings to myself. Well, that was absolutely 'freakishness' on my part and it always ended up with me being punished. That period in my life might have resulted in the lock being placed on the door to the cupboard under the stairs. I don't remember that particular incident of course but I soon ended up with a few broken and misfit toys in my restricted space. A stuffed red horse with an ear chewed off and a top with a bent handle so it wouldn't spin. I had those for about a month until Aunt Petunia noticed that they both had been 'fixed'. She immediately took them away from me but refused Dudley's pleadings to give them back to him. (I think they may have ended up in the church's raffle that year.)

Being forced to go to school was another instance that I let the Dursley family down. Actually, I'll correct that. I didn't let Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia down. From their point of view, I humiliated Dudley and embarrassed them. Because Dudley went to great lengths (with his friends) to keep me isolated from kids my age, I had a lot of time during school hours to read and study. Possibly even to do my assignments and hide them (before Dudley took them and handed them in as his own). In addition, locked in my closet, I could do additional revising until the light coming through the slats made it too difficult to read.

The upshot of all this studying was my getting better grades than Dudley. At least I thought I had done well. When I showed my aunt and uncle my scores, I was beaten severely and thrown into the cupboard over the weekend with only two short breaks to go to the loo because it was obviously my freakiness that had caused my high marks or that I had used my freakiness against the teacher. I had to dumb down my class answers and tests scores so that Dudley always got better marks than I did. It was a wonder that I didn't fail any of those levels I had with my cousin. Sometimes I wish I had to at least separate the two of us from similar lessons.

I just spoke about teachers. There were a couple of instances where interactions between me and teachers that resulted in the Dursley's being called to school for counseling sessions about some 'unusual' circumstances.

Mr. Terrance Hollingsworth Terwilliger ("of the Lancashire Terwilligers, you know") was a very, very new teacher that was hired before my second year of formal schooling. As the youngest teacher in the school he was automatically assigned the additional duties that no one actually wanted; Truancy Monitor, Staff Party Planner, Food Drive Coordinator, etc.…

One of the jobs that brought him outside on a regular basis was that of Playground Supervisor. There were supposed to be two employees of the school checking the activities of unrestrained children to break up minor fights and general mayhem and mischief. In reality, if any member of the administrative staff weren't present, Professor Terwilliger would engage in one of two activities and mostly ignore the charges he was supposed to be monitoring. The first was attempting to chat up one of the three young single female teachers that were employed by the school. (Considering the looks that the three each gave him behind his back, even I could determine that these efforts were spectacularly ineffective.)

Also, the young instructor was totally obsessed by the appearance of his hair. He could be found standing in front of any reflective surface (glass, water, a well-polished car) grooming his hair with an ivory handled paddle-style hairbrush. I unfortunately had the misfortune of learning exactly what type of product it was one fall day. I was recovering from an unsuccessful attempt to elude Dudley and his gang when I mis-stepped and stumbled into said monitor, causing him to drop said brush and had it chip on a piece of loose tarmac that had somehow made it to the schoolyard.

The look on the face of Terwilliger made me afraid to blink, breath and (more importantly) escape. I was hauled up by the scruff of my Dudley castoff shirt and almost wiggled my way out of confinement. Unfortunately, that didn't happen.

"Mr. Hedley Plottern! I know who you are, and you have absolutely no idea what your clumsiness has just done! That brush has been handed down to the eldest male in my family for **five** generations. It was handmade in Cairo for my great, great grandfather. Sir Hollingsworth Terwilliger the 4th, commissioned that for himself from an elephant he shot on safari. You or your parents will pay dearly for the replacement or fixture of this heirloom!"

I was shaking already from the tone of his words but when he got around to mentioning my parents, I realized that Uncle Vernon and/or Aunt Petunia would soon be involved. I blinked hard, then flinched in his grasp at the probable punishment I might be getting. I fell and gasped as I was released to fall to the ground. I scrambled backwards on my heels and hands and looked back to see why I had been let go. Imagine my surprise when I saw that Professor Terwilliger wasn't looking at me. He was staring at his hands… that were a light green. And his fingertips were topped by little round globes that appeared to be olives.

I looked away from his hands and found that the young educator resembles an aubergine ("Eggplant", Uncle Vernon insisted, "I'll not have those Frenchie words thrown about in a respectable English household!"). Terwilliger had a long shiny, plump, purple covering that extended from his knees up to his neck. I thought it looked like a costume, but I could see no tell-tale zipper that he could use to get in. His head was covered in a pale, yellow cap like the stem of the vegetable while his arms and legs were the color of vegetable runners.

Something in my expression must have caught Terwilliger's attention because he stammered once or twice about something beyond my understanding and half-turned to look at his reflection in the glass behind him.

That sudden scream must have echoed round the schoolyard and maybe into the school! I was a little surprised at the girlishness of the tone, but it could just have been the shock I suppose. Heads turned our way, and I found myself finally moving. Perhaps it was the realization that I had control of my limbs again, but it was the movement of the educator that mostly led speed to my feet. Waving his colorful hands in the air, Professor Terwilliger panicked and started looking for someone, anyone to help him (or escape the schoolyard). He followed me as I was the closest living being. I ran into the midst of the other kids in the yard and they fortunately all scattered out of the way. Except for one or two who were transfixed by the sight of me running and being chased by the overgrown refugee from a garden. Piers Polkiss and Cousin Dudley were laughing at my situation.

_Until I turned directly toward their location._ I imagine there were some of my classmates amused at the sight of my two tormentors running as fast as they could while I chased after _them _for a change. Luckily for all of us, the sudden pursuit was ended shortly. One of the school's maintenance men, Mr. Lugosi, tackled the professor. Mrs. Emma Peel, the 4th level mathematics professor, then began beating Terwilliger about the head and shoulders with her umbrella until he quit struggling and laid quietly. We students were quickly ushered back to our classrooms with everyone trying to crowd the windows to see what else would happen.

I had hidden in the boy's loo just in case someone wanted to talk to me about what I had seen or what had happened. I escaped the interrogations but learned that Professor Terwilliger was escorted from the school grounds by a quartet of Little Whinging's best constables and a pair of medical responders. There was no more news of Terwilliger that afternoon and his afternoon classes were turned into study periods with the school's administrators taking turns supervising the quietly gossiping students.

Of course, Dudley somehow made it back to Privet Drive that afternoon before me and told Aunt Petunia all about the lunchtime strangeness that happened. She grabbed me by the ear when I arrived there, and she and Dudley threw me into the cupboard under the stairs. I was locked in here until 15 minutes after Uncle Vernon arrived home from work. I thought I was prepared for his reaction, but it was much worse than I imagined. He had his belt off when he reached in and grabbed me out and began beating me with it after he ripped one of Dudley's oversized shirts off me.

I loss count after 25 strikes or so, or maybe I became semi-conscious. I'm not sure which; I woke up a little to hear Aunt Petunia tell Uncle Vernon that they should go out as a family to celebrate "beating the freakiness out of me" once again. I then passed out.

When I woke up later there were no sounds or lights on in the house which meant that my 'loving' family had either not returned from eating out or had returned and gone immediately to bed without looking in on me. I found out quickly that the blood leaking out of my back had mostly congealed, sticking me temporarily to the floor of the closet under the stairs. I carefully tried moving as to not rip open scabbed over scars. It was also important that I did this without yelling at the pain and attracting further unneeded attention to myself.

Oh, the other teacher instance had a teacher's hair turned blue for about two weeks after she lost her temper and berated me in full view of my classmates about not appreciating the generosity of my 'loving' relatives.

(Yawn!)

This happened years ago, and I had the concept of 'accidental magic' explained to me once I had changed homes. I am now in a much better place and circumstances that what I had then.

Here I'm loved.

************DPW******************

_Matron's Report Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry July 2, 1986 _

_Copies sent to: Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Walter O'Reilly, Chief Potion Master, St Mungos Magical Hospital_

_Ending Inventory: _

Common Potions

_Available _ _Required_

Boil cure 3 10

Burn-healing Paste 4 16

Calming Draught 7 15

Deflating Potion 2 2

Hiccupping Solution 4 4

Incoming Potion sets 20* 20

(for muggleborn/muggle-raised 1st years)

Murtlap Essence (.5 gallon bottle) 2 3

Pepperup Potion 8 20

Sleeping Draught 2 10

Critical Potions

_ Available _ _ Required_

_Blood Replenishing Draught _0 3

Dreamless Sleep Potion 2 6

Mandrake Draught ** 0 N/A

Skele-gro Potion (1/2 gallon jug) .5 2

_Exceptions_

_* Inoculation Potion sets were filled as part of Newt Level Project by the 7__th__ years_

_** Statis spells expired on the 2 available Mandrake Draughts that have been on hand for 3 years_

_ Recommendation __: Despite prohibited cost of ingredients, at least one draught be purchased from St Mungo's or Diagon Alley. _

_Alternative__: To have Professor Sprout plant and raise a dozen Mandrake plants to supply an emergency need with excess potions to be sent to St Mungo's or sold to o…_

**Knock, Knock!**

The dicta-quill paused at Madame Pomfrey's muttered curse and she spun in her seat to see who had had the nerve to surprise her in her own office. Her scowl relaxed at the familiar face she saw in the doorway.

"Headmaster, you gave me a surprise. I thought that all the other staff had left for their for their vacations."

"My apologies Poppy. I am indeed on my way off to the summer ICW meetings but I had one detail to take of before I departed so I thought I would stop by the Medical Wing in the chance that you would doing your end of term inventory."

"I was just wrapping things up. I am flooing to my sister's house in Somerset tomorrow morning for a few weeks visiting with her and her family."

"Sounds like a marvelous opportunity. Please give my well wishes to the Priestley's. I do have a medical question I would like to pose to you."

"Yes?"

"What is the earliest that preventative magical potions may be given to young boys and girls?"

"That depends on the specific potion Albus. Some like dragon pox immunity and the vanishing sickness can be given with proper supervision as early as 5. But the others such as spattergroit must wait for a more mature age of 9 or 11. Why?"

"I have taken responsibility upon my self to make sure a 6-year-old magical orphan gets the most secure upbringing that can happen. That would include the application of potions to prevent possible diseases."

"You could bring the boy here for me to treat him Headmaster."

"I understand that Poppy but for the greater good this young man should stay in a place where he is hidden from the magical world. I will transport the potions there if you have them on hand now."

"Of course Headmaster." Poppy went to the unlocked cabinet in her office and brought out three vials. As she was handing them over, her mouth dropped in surprise. "We aren't talking about the Boy-Who-?"

Dumbledore's face lost its usual smile as he took the potions. "You did not hear me say the name of the particular child and it would not do to speculate of who it may or may not be. I hope I can count on your discretion not to mention our little meeting this afternoon to anyone. It is a matter of some security you understand."

"Of course, Headmaster. I will state only that you came by to wish me the best of summer holidays if anyone asks."

"I thank you Poppy" Dumbledore said as he put the potions in one of the many pockets in his robes. "We shall probably see you again just before September 1st." He waved his hand in a general motion, turned and headed for the exit of the medical wing.

Madame Pomfrey sighed and turned back to her inventory list to correct the listing because of Dumbledore's need. She sat for a minute in silence and then pulled down a blank student medical folder. She labelled it in big block letters with the name of Harry Potter. She made a notation on the inside that Harry Potter had received all his magical incoming potions and that the boy would not need to be examined upon his arrival at Hogwarts like all the other muggle raised.

Madame Pomfrey had no inkling that Headmaster Dumbledore had vanished the vials of potions he had taken as he was putting them into a pocket. He had never visited Harry Potter since he had left him on his relative's doorstep and relied upon his observers to attend Harry's apparent well-being.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – A Change of Plans

September 22, 1990

I guess I shouldn't put this off any longer. The day things changed forever for me. The day that got me out of the Dursley's household. A day that changed Little Whinging and the lives of more than a few regular and magical people. A day I know a lot of except for a few of the actual facts. (I'll fill in the unavoidable guesses as they come up in my writing.)

Dudley's birthday happened a few weeks before mine. Being England and plans being made weeks in advance, an outing that day for my cousin and his friends was postponed because of the weather. An unusually rainy summer postponed the much-anticipated trip for Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley and a couple of his ('Harry Hunting') friends - gang members.

Of course Dudley still had his birthday with cake, ice cream and numerous (_**very**_ numerous since I had to wrap them all up for the birthday boy myself) presents. After getting up earlier than normal that day to cook half a mountain of breakfast foods for Dudders special day, I was quickly told that I would be spending the day away from #4 Privet Drive. Mrs. Figg had told Aunt Petunia that she had plenty of chores inside her house and garage to keep me busy for most of the day. Uncle Vernon had a special grin on his face when he threw me out the front door into the rainstorm.

"Our Big Boy will be playing with his new toys and friends until later. We've changed plans to take them to the mall where he and his friends will take in a movie while his Mum and I find a couple of other gifts for his birthday. Nothing is too good for my son. You don't have to worry about fixing supper for us as we are eating elsewhere."

"Don't you even try to steal a piece of Dudley's birthday cake" Aunt Petunia said over Vernon's shoulder. "We'll know if even a morsel is missing."

"Don't worry Love. We're locking up our house until we come back. Boy, you can stay in the shed if Mrs. Figg is done with you early. Do You hear me?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon. Yes sir."

I dashed through the rain showers over to Mrs. Figg house. I found out her first chore was, thankfully, fixing a real breakfast for myself and her. She had fed all her cats before I arrived, so I didn't have to fend a few of them off the kitchen counters. She and I fixed up toast, eggs, bangers and tomatoes. I was then quite busy helping Mrs. Figg out while Dudley spent time with his friends. I didn't return to Number 4 until mid-evening after Aunt Petunia called Mrs. Figg's house for me. There was nothing left of the takeaways that the Dursley's had brought home and I ended up with a half-spoiled apple for my supper and a glass of water. Naturally, there was no leftover cake to be had once the quartet of boys and Uncle Vernon were let loose on the desert. I was thrown into my cupboard while Dudley was still playing with his new video games rather loudly upstairs in his room.

My own birthday on July 31st came and went with the usual lack of fanfare, although Dudley had seemed to have taken some suggestions from his gang about dropping extra chores on me that day. I kept my protests and dismay to myself as I knew my only response would either be additional chores or a beating. (Despite my aunt's apparent lack of physical abilities, she could swing a frying pan with almost deadly speed, force and accuracy.)

The summer went on its usual(dreadful) course until the middle of August. I was informed while serving supper to my three 'family' members that Uncle Vernon was taking a Monday off to take the family on the outing to the London Zoo. I had no hope of being allowed to go with them. Aunt Petunia that told me that Uncle Vernon's car still had to be washed and waxed first thing in in the morning before they picked up Dudley's best friend Pierce for the outing. I nodded my acknowledgement but that didn't seem good enough for my uncle who squeezed my shoulder painfully until I spoke the words he wanted me to say. "Yes, Aunt Petunia, I will get right on that after breakfast."

I was woken extra early to cook a big(ger) breakfast for the three Dursleys and managed to sneak a couple of pieces of toast outside where I began washing the Dursley's Vauxhall. I had to be extra diligent with the bonnet, windscreen and boot as they were the parts that Vernon most inspected. I finished and returned the supplies to the shed returned to the house. I was somewhat surprised to be the center for attention once inside, and it wasn't for any of the right reasons. Mrs. Figg had called while I was outside and told Aunt Petunia that her sister had broken her leg and she was going to immediately visit her to care of her for about a week. Other people were called in the neighborhood were called to see if anyone else could watch after me while the Dursleys were gone, but there was no one. It seemed to very distressing to the trio, especially to Uncle Vernon and Dudley.

I spoke up and said that it would be okay if they left me at home and I would even volunteer to be left locked in my cupboard if I could take a book or two to occupy myself.

Sadly, my voice enraged my Uncle a bit more. "Do you remember what happened the last time we tried that? You were still locked in when we returned but every window in the house was thrown wide open. We're very lucky we weren't robbed blindly of everything we owned that day. And you remember what else happened that day? Boy, answer me! Do you remember what else happened when we left you behind?"

I hung my head in fear and resignation. "Yes, Uncle Vernon" I whispered.

"You darn well better remember, freak. Every window in the house was open and every form of loathsome, vicious, flying form of pestilence and vermin in three shires were lying in wait for us in the rooms upstairs!"

"I didn't do that Uncle Vernon." I tried to speak calmly.

"**It was freakishness!** I will not have that in my house boy! You aren't staying here unattended!"

Aunt Petunia laid a hand on my uncle's shoulder in an effort to calm him down before he really lost his temper. "I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, " and …. leave him in the car…."

"That car's new, I won't have him sitting in it alone…"

(A.N. Underlined words are taken directly from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone _from here on.)

Dudley began to cry at that point. Well, not really crying. It was a stage act that he pulled any time he really wanted to get his own way and get his parents to change their minds about something he didn't like. His alligator tears flowed freely as if he was in terrible distress.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry. Mummy won't let him spoil your special outing." Aunt Petunia wrapped her arms around her upset son. Dudley knew if he wailed long enough that his parents usually gave into him.

"I… don't… want… him… t-to… come" Dudley wailed in make believe sobs. "He always ruins everything!" My cousin sneered and stuck his tongue out at me over his mother's shoulder.

"It will be okay Dudders. I will make sure that the freak won't bother you or Piers today. Isn't that right, _boy?_"

I shuffled slowly over to place my back against the nearest wall at Uncle Vernon's challenge. "Yes Uncle Vernon, I won't be a problem for Dudley today."

"And…?" came the sniffling question from Dudley.

"I will stay far away from you and Piers so you can enjoy the trip to the zoo" I answered.

"You'd better!" Aunt Petunia said.

Fifteen minutes later I was in the back seat of the car I had just washed and waxed. Dudley had grabbed a handful of sodas and small bags of chips to sustain him on the trip. We stopped briefly on Meryl Street to pick up his rat-faced friend Piers. Of course being Piers, he sat on the opposite side of Dudley so he could have the other window seat. That left me in the middle. I then had the impossible task of protecting my head and body from Dudley and Piers elbows and fists as we made our way to the zoo.

I had aches in my sides from jabs and punches when we arrived and parked. The two boys ran toward the entrance followed by Aunt Petunia as Uncle Vernon pulled me aside once I exited the back seat.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face close to me, "I'm warning you now, boy - any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"I'm not going to do anything," I said, "honestly…"

"See that you don't—**or else!**" Uncle Vernon straightened up, turned abruptly and headed for the entrance as if he didn't know me _at all_. ( I didn't try to tell my Uncle Vernon that I never _tried _to do anything. Ever! But strange events seemed to follow me along, but I couldn't say that; it only made Uncle Vernon angrier.)

I had to hurry up and catch up with the other four as Uncle Vernon started paying for our admittance. The lady in the booth looked a little doubtful as my Aunt and Uncle claimed I was under 5 years of age and entitled to the cheapest rate on the board. I knew I was smaller than other children my age but was a little disappointed that the person didn't argue the point at all.

Once inside, the adult Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams but I only got a small lemon ice when the lady with the cart asked what I wanted.

As we all were walking away from the Ice cream cart, Uncle Vernon gave Piers a five-pound note to buy things for the day and handed Dudley a ten! Aunt Petunia said if they found something that both boys wanted, that they would buy it for them. As an extra!

Aunt Petunia sniffed loudly as she found a fifty pence piece in her purse and gave it to me. "I expect the change back after we leave" she said. As I believed there wasn't anything at the zoo I could buy for myself at that price, I tucked the coin into the one pocket that didn't have a hole in it and hoped that Dudley hadn't seen the gesture and beat me up later for the money.

Dudley and Piers ran off in one direction with my aunt and uncle following them. I followed, off to the side and trying to remain quiet. And invisible.

I thought it was a good plan. It was until…

*****************DPW*******************

_Dumbledore's Actions_

_November 1__st__, 1981 Sometime in the morning hours Privet Drive, Little Whining, Surrey, Great Britain_

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive before. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver in his hair and his beard, which was long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a long cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, at though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Dumbledore magically extinguished all the streetlights he could see and then walked down the darkened street to a wall where a cat was warily watching him approach. Dumbledore sat down on the wall next to the feline and without looking around spoke quietly to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

There was a whisp of activity next to Dumbledore and the wizard slyly grinned. He turned and smiled at the severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings of the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, a dark emerald one. Her black hair was drawn tightly into a bun and she looked especially displeased.

"That's a curious statement to make after assigning me to stay here, near Number 4, to observe the neighborhood and this … family. I let Mad-Eye take my place for an hour to grab a quick bite and freshen up. There were all sort of rumors and celebrations around the Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley and even out in the muggle public. There's certainly going to be investigations into this breach of the Statute of Secrecy."

"You can't blame them," Dumbledore said gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"Rumors of the wildest imaginations," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Owls flying about willy-nilly, fireworks being set off in broad daylight. The wildest speculation and lies being bandied about without any sort of logic. Do you have some knowledge of what the truth of all this is?"

"Lemon drop, Minerva?"

"NO. I require an explanation, please. Elphias Doge swept me up in me up in a hug and spun me around in the middle of the Leaky. He told me 'You-know-Who' had been defeated by Harry Potter of all people! What an absurd notion. The wee bairn isn't barely more than a year old and he defeated the most powerful wizard in the world aside from yourself Dumbledore? Please, tell me that's not the story?"

Dumbledore bowed his head in silence. Professor McGonagall gasped. "That's the truth behind the rumors" Dumbledore said. "There is enough of good news to offset the horrible news that makes this long-awaited celebration possible", said Dumbledore.

The look that his assistant gave him prodded Dumbledore to speak further. "Last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potter's. He… Voldemort… killed… James and Lily…"

"I can't believe it…I don't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"

Dumbledore reached out a steadying hand to place on McGonagall's' shoulder. "He also tried to kill their son, Harry. But – he couldn't. No one knows why, or how, but when Voldemort couldn't kill the boy, his power somehow broke and that's why he's gone."

McGonagall looked astonished. "He couldn't kill a little boy? It's just unbelievable… but how in the name of Merlin did the boy survive?"

"I only have guesses", Dumbledore said. "We may never know for sure."

There was silence for a few moments as McGonagall dried her tears with a handkerchief she pulled from a pocket. "Why are we still here then? Surely the Order should be throwing a party to celebrate the news. I expect Sirius Black will be handling his godson's affairs until he reaches age of course."

Dumbledore frowned at McGonagall's comment. "No one has been able to find Mr. Black in all this confusion. I have no other choice in the matter but to bring the boy to his only surviving relatives."

"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here", Professor McGonagall cried. "Dumbledore- you can't! I've been watching these people all day. And you'll never find people who are less like us. They have this horrid son who screams constantly and kicks his own mother. Harry Potter can not come here and live. I will take him on myself as his…"

"Dear, dear Minerva… _**Obliviate!**_" Dumbledore has discreetly pulled his wand at his companion's description of the residents of 4 Privet Drive. He bent over to whisper in her ear.

"I have made you forget what you saw of the Dursley's and that Sirius Black and Alice Longbottom are the blood-sworn godparents of young Harry. I have removed the memories of you and Frank Longbottom also being the secondary godparents of the child. You will only remember the memories of the Potters as students under your House and the Order of the Phoenix. Nothing else about the child."

"_**Imperious!**_ You will remember having talked to Harry's aunt and uncle and finding them most grievous at the loss of their relative but happy to raise a new part of their family. They will raise the boy with love, attention and their knowledge of the magical world. All they ask is isolation from magical visitors, except for me to check on the boy's upbringing. They fear the attention of too many visitors will attract the wrong sort; those responsible for the death of the boy's parents."

"You understand that don't you Professor McGonagall?", the wizard asked as he relinquished the curse.

"I guess so", said McGonagall, shaking her head slowly. "It is way too much for a child to have to carry as he grows up but at least he is with caring relatives."

"Indeed. You have spent a long, weary night being the watchguard on Number 4. Why don't you head back to Hogwarts and I will stay here and make sure that young Harry is delivered safely to his family?"

"I suppose that is for the best. I will see you at breakfast then. Goodnight Albus."

"Goodnight Minerva. Pleasant Dreams."

"I doubt it", the professor turned on her heel and vanished.

Dumbledore watch the street for a second and then pulled a scrap of parchment out of his pocket. Waving his wand at it, he made in invisible, impervious to the weather and fastened to the doorpost of the Dursley's front door. It would generate feelings of indifference and loathing toward the youngest child in the house.

Dumbledore smiled and turned to setting up blood wards as he listened for the sound of an airborne motorcycle.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – In Brightest Day

November 1st, 1980

_Hello, Jay(son) and anyone else who may be allowed to read this private journal. My name is Hermione Granger, and I am a really good friend of the owner of this journal. For some reason or other, he asked me to describe a day that I found quite exceptional. The day I met Harry Potter (God (or Merlin?) Rest his Soul !) for the first and last time. I didn't know then that he was special or that magic existed, but I have learned a lot since then. I don't think I will ever forget the look of that boy or what happened to us. It was August 5, 1988:_

"So, what do you think of the giraffes?" I suddenly asked of the boy who was standing a few feet away from me.

Silence was the only answer I received. I had been raised with proper manners and behavior and I thought that the boy was being very rude. But I allowed him the excuse that he hadn't heard me or was concentrating on the animals in the exhibit before us. I was about to ask the question again but was suddenly aware of how the boy looked. The boy was smaller than me and, from what I could see of his hands and neck, very scrawny. His clothes were gigantic compared to his frame and his sleeves although they were rolled up many times came down to completely cover his hands some of the time. The same was true for his trousers but when he shuffled closer to the barricade, I could see that his trainers were held together by string, broken laces and tape. A belt made of rope held up the pants and gathered the jersey up in an effort to appear somewhat normal.

I don't wish to sound braggish, but I've been told that I am very smart for my age. I suddenly came to a startling conclusion, based on what I saw, that this boy was homeless! For some reason I suspected my unknown companion had come to the zoo in search of finding food or some other needed essentials. I also thought he might also have other problems than financial and one of those might even be deafness!

My face fell in sadness and sympathy for what his life might be like. Walking quietly as not to scare the boy, I reached out and quietly touched the boy on the shoulder. His reaction was instantaneous, severe(!), and quite unexpected! The touch caused the boy to jump about 1 foot up and 2 feet sideways and falling to the ground. He curled up into a ball, wrapped his arms protectively around his head and stomach and had his eyes clenched closed, not wanting to see what might happening next! It startled me enough retreat a step or two.

Now, I was _very worried_ about the boy. This wasn't a normal reaction, and I didn't know exactly to do next. I decided to go slowly to my knees a few feet from him and tried speaking calmly and reassuringly. "I'm very, very sorry for startling you like that. I didn't want to scare you, but you didn't answer me when I asked you a question about the giraffes. There's nobody else around now but the two of us, so I would like to talk to you properly if I could."

" You... you want to talk...talk with me? "

"Yes, why not? Is it illegal for me to talk to you or something?" The boy had moved to a sitting position on the ground. He looked around but didn't look at me directly. He chuckled a little and a small smile came to his face. "It's not exactly illegal but it would depend on who you asked."

"Whom you would ask."

"What? "

"You need to use 'whom' in that instance."

"Well, thank you for correcting me then Miss...?"

I must have blushed at his look. I stood up and watched as the boy also regained his feet. When he looked at me directly, I was surprised and gasped aloud. I had already seen the cracked and taped up glasses, but his face grabbed my attention. There was a prominent but crooked scar on his forehead that kind of looked like a lightning bolt, but it was his eyes that riveted me! The eyes were the deepest shade of green I had ever seen on anybody.

The boy looked at my face and the smile faded. He returned his gaze to the ground and I was scared that he might run away. And very soon.

"I'm very sorry and apologize again for staring at you! That was very rude of me. Let's go back and properly start fresh. My name is Hermione, Hermione Granger. I'll be 9 years old next month and my parents and I live in Crawley."

I held out my hand. The boy looked at the hand cautiously but shook it carefully as he responded "My name is Harry… Harry Potter. I just turned 8 a few weeks ago and I live with my Aunt, Uncle and cousin in Little Whinging in Surrey. Pleased to meet you Miss Granger."

"Hermione please. "

"As long as you call me Harry."

"Okay. "

"I'm sorry I missed your question Hermione because I was watching the giraffes. What was it again?"

I almost missed the question as I was relieved that Harry wasn't homeless, but still puzzled by his clothes ('His relatives were poor?'). I reached out to touch Harry again but saw him get nervous and panicky and added the thought that maybe that Harry was very, very shy. Instead of grabbing up his hand as I originally wanted, I crooked my finger at him and walked back to the barrier that kept the zoo visitors away from the tallest mammals on earth. Harry looked around but seeing nobody else, came up beside me.

"I asked what you thought of the giraffes?"

Harry seemed a little reluctant to get too close and nervously gripped the railing of the fence. He was looking at the three giraffes as he answered me. "I think they are totally brilliant. If I didn't know any better, I would think that they came from another planet. Or had just escaped from a Doctor Seuss book."

"Doctor Seuss, I've always liked him. Do you like to read Harry? "

"Yes, but I don't get to do that as much as I'd like. I have a lot of chores to do at my relatives house."

"What about school then? You must have a decent library there. "

"It's a very good library but the teachers insist I go out and play instead of staying inside."

"You can't take books outside during breaks?"

"I'm… I'm kind of clumsy sometimes and I don't want any books I have to become dirty or damaged."

I wasn't sure if Harry was telling the truth then, but I didn't ask for any further explanation. We turned to talking about the giraffes and the other animals at the zoo. Over the next five minutes I explained that my mum had gone to the nearby bank of phones to call my father at work and that both my parents were dentists. Harry responded that his uncle was a salesman at Grunnings Drillworks and that he and his cousin were in the same class at school. I said that maybe there were some good things about being in the same grade, like studying for tests and doing homework together.

Harry had smiled weakly "It hasn't exactly worked out like that, but I'm doing okay in school for the most part."

I thought there was more to that story, but I smiled when I heard my name called out. Harry turned and looked across the open area to see my mother waving and walking towards us. Harry seemed nervous at meeting her, but I said my mother was very kind and friendly to everyone. Harry relaxed a little but suddenly there were other shouts and almost every bird in our area launched into the sky with loud screeches and other noises. Two other children suddenly appeared running around the corner. One was skinny and started to smirk when he saw Harry. The other one appeared to be as wide as he was tall. He matched the description that Harry gave me of his cousin and I wondered how the cousin had such good-looking clothes and shoes while Harry was so dressed so shabbily.

Harry looked at me and I could suddenly see nervousness (or worry?) appear in his eyes. His mouth didn't move much but I heard "Don't move much and maybe they will ignore you." He walked away quite briskly, and I wasn't sure if I should obey the warning or follow him. Before I could decide, the first boy ran at Harry and roughly knocked him over, shoving him down to the ground and making his glasses fly off.

I was too shocked to yell at the assault, but the skinny boy spoke back to the other boy who was getting closer. "Hey Big D, the freak found himself a skirt to talk at." My mouth open in shock but the worst thing was yet to come. Harry's cousin looked at me and sneered. "She's not very pretty is she? Maybe the freak totally forgot he doesn't deserve to have any friends!"

The pudgy(fat) boy then stepped right on Harry's back, holding him down and kicked him twice in the side. "You don't want to forget your place freak, and you certainly shouldn't be wandering around bothering normal folks. Unless you get back in sight of Mum and Dad really quick, you know what will happen."

My mother had been alarmed at the attack at the smallest boy and yelled at the bullies when she came closer. The two bigger boys laughed at Harry again and took off, although the fat one's waddling could hardly be interpreted as running. Mum finally got close enough to help Harry to his feet while I went to pick up his glasses from where they had flown. Harry thanked Mum and me for the help to him and my mother for chasing of "Piers and Dudley" away.

Harry brushed off his clothes quickly and looked at his hands that were scraped up from colliding with the pavement. He sighed and said that " It was a pleasure meeting you both, but I really **have **to leave'.

Harry shuffled off quickly holding his side where he had been kicked but soon was moving quicker and almost got up to a stumbling run. I called out 'Goodbye' as best I could, and Harry turned a little sideways and waved back at us. I quickly lost sight of him as he made his way though a crowd of people. I turned to Mum. "Did you see all of that?"

"I did but I was more worried about you than who you had been talking to." My mother gave me a quick hug which settled my nerves a bit. While Mum looked around to see if she could see any of the three boys again, I tugged on her hand a few times to get her attention. When she looked down, I started speaking again.

"The boy I was talking to … His name is Harry and we've been talking to each other almost from time you left. I … I think he tried to keep those bullies away from me as he warned me to stay still. He went towards them and you saw the rest. Mum, can we go looking for him? I think that chubby one was the cousin he told me about. He's really mean, and I want to make sure Harry doesn't get hurt again."

"I don't know Hermione. It's a big zoo and it's not really our business."

"Please Mum, I won't ask you to take me to the library for two weeks… three weeks…please?"

I had never tried to trade off with my own mother in this way. Deciding that I was indeed very worried about a random boy I had just met, Mum nodded but told me that she couldn't guarantee that we would have any luck finding or helping Harry. I agreed and almost got away from my mother's grasp but was told that she didn't want her daughter wandering off willy-nilly to maybe meet those bullies again. I smiled but began tugging on her hand to move her along in the direction we had last seen Harry.

It was a long twenty minutes of searching for Harry and I think Mum was surprised at my singlemindedness. We passed through the Big Cats part of the zoo and my mum was surprised that I had not spared a glance for the lions and tigers which I usually loved. I had climbed up on every bench we passed to see if I could see the green-eyed boy. I finally called out that I had seen Harry enter the Reptile House. When mum asked me if I was sure of the spotting, I said that no one else had that messy black hair and those awful baggy clothes. That was good enough for Mum and we hurried toward the exhibit. There were three entrances/exits to the Reptile House. It was composed of a ring around concrete walls that held glass paneled exhibits in the walls on the inside and outside of the interior loop. By the time Mum and I got to the nearest entrance, I was getting more anxious about Harry. Mum tried calming me down as she saw a few zoo employees stationed about to answer questions and direct traffic. She said that maybe they would make sure nothing would happen to the boy I had met.

I pulled back on her mother's arm when I saw that the entrance was temporarily blocked off by a oddly paired couple. The first person was a tall and skinny female with a neck length that would be more properly found on a horse. It was the second person that I saw that made me suddenly anxious. It was a big wide man that had the same appearance as the large tubby child that had kicked Harry. The same proportions on an adult were frankly a little disgusting as he was wiping his face with a handkerchief because he was sweating so much. The man stuffed his handkerchief into his back pocket and managed to not get stuck in the entrance as he turned sideways to be able to get through the doorway. We followed them in but kept about a few feet behind the couple. When I heard the raised voices of the two bullies who had attacked Harry, I turned around and retreated the other way around the circle of exhibits. I went that way because I wasn't sure if I could get by Harry's uncle due to his width, and I didn't want to become another target for those two awful boys.

It took about 2 minutes of backtracking through the other passageway before I saw Harry. He was kneeling down next to a huge enclosure that held a really big Boa Constrictor. He and the snake seemed to be having a stare battle as the snake had raised his head up almost to the level of Harry's eyes.

"_Harry"_, I whispered as urgently as I could as I came up beside him. I heard some hissing noise from in front of me, but it stopped when Harry turned his head to look at me. Before I could warn him about avoiding his cousin and talking to Mum…

_**Splat**_**!** …. we both were shoved aside with a vengeance when Harry's cousin deliberately collided with us to get to see the big snake. We both went flying down the passageway! I shrieked which caused a returning outraged cry from my mother who had almost caught up to me. I braced my self for a horrid collision and slide on the rough concrete, but something happened that I didn't expect.

(Harry was closer to the cage and smaller so I expected him to fly farther and received more damage from the collision…")

I landed on something soft and a big "Whoof!" sounded in my right ear. My eyes opened in shock to realize that it wasn't something I landed on but _someone_. Harry! There was _NO WAY_ he could have move in the aftermath of that collision to end up where he was, but there he was, under me. We slid probably another foot on the floor. My hands were on his shoulders and he had his arms folded tightly around the middle of my back. My mouth dropped open in shock and Harry himself seem to be surprised at where he had ended up.

We stopped looking at each other as we heard a few sounds following our situation. My mother was yelling out my name as she came closer but there was laughter breaking through the silence of the few zoo visitors nearby.

Harry's cousin Dudley and Piers were barely standing from laughing so hard and had their backs up against the glass wall of the Boa Constrictor cage. His uncle had then come up waddling to see what the two boys were going on about. He had his hand braced against the glass also as he wiped his face again with his handkerchief. I looked back totally in anger and shock at what his cousin had done to Harry. I know I gasped at what I saw when I turned back to look at Harry. Harry's eyes were glowing, like there was a strong light behind them. Something weird but wonderful happened then, I felt a warm wave of something indescribable pass through me and heard a sudden pop and then scream from Harry's aunt.

While Harry and I were being helped up by Mum, I looked back to the where Harry's cousin and other tormenter were standing. I was intending to give them a piece of my mind, but I stopped in disbelief as I saw what had unbelievably happened. Harry's uncle, Dudley, and Piers were floundering around in the water _inside_ the boa exhibit, slipping and sliding around in the water as they all tried to get up. There was _**NO HOLE**_ or _**BREAK **_in the glass to explain their sudden change in location. Somehow the boa constrictor had also swapped places with Harry's relatives because it was slithering along the wall across from us with only a hiss of sound as it passed. I realized later that Harry had nodded in approval as the snake escaped.

Harry's Aunt Petunia suddenly got over her shock and started rushing toward her nephew, yelling out all sort of names and threats. Harry grabbed up my hand as his faced went even whiter than before. "It was really nice meeting you and your your Mum, Hermione but I _**really**_ have to leave_** now**_." Harry turned around and headed out the nearby exit as Mum and I tried to get into his aunt's way and complain about his cousin's treatment of him and why he had shoved me aside.

There were other Zoo staff suddenly appearing at all the commotion and as my mother and I were taken aside and asked about what we saw. I could only feel sad that the last I saw of Harry Potter was his back as he ran away from the Snake House in his tattered trainers.

(I found out a year later of the history of Harry Potter in the magical world and what he had supposedly done. I found it hard to reconcile his public stature and reputation with the shy, abused(?) friendly boy I met that day in the London Zoo.)

_(Jayson, I met you long after the announced death of Harry Potter that was in the Daily Prophet. I checked the back issues after you asked me to write this. Is there any particular reason you asked me about Harry Potter? I __**PROMISE**__ that I will __**never**__ tell another person, if you trust me like I trust you!)_

********DPC********

_The Very Private Journals of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_Pensieve Memory Summary: 11-81 B_

_November 4, 1981_

_I had exited the floo station in Diagon Alley at the end of a terribly busy day the Ministry of Magic. There was chaos about in that institution as the Death (or Disappearance) of the Dark Lord and the fallout of the death of James and Lily Potter had sown frantic alarms from all the various factions in the Wizengamot._

_My last official act there today as Chief Wizard was supervising the transfer of an unconscious Sirius Black to Azkaban Prison. My Occlumency skills hid the high level of gloating I was enjoying from the others present. I doublechecked the magic suppression cuffs that he was wearing despite the objections of Auror Shacklebolt. I had then cautioned the Aurors not to let the prisoner wake up and just dump him in the cell that had been reserved for him in the high-security wing. I told those 4 wizards that Black was the right-hand man to Voldemort, and I wanted all the precautions and procedures followed for such a dangerous and evil wizard. The escort and their prisoner had portkeyed out of the DMLE for the landing dock to the magical prison and I made my way to the public floos in the Ministry to head for my appointment at Gringotts in Diagon Alley._

_The goblin guards at the entrance to the bank gave me little notice but before I could join the queue to get to one of the tellers, a young goblin approached me. 'My name is Barktoe and I was instructed by my clan leader to guide you to his office for your appointment wizard."_

_Not addressing me by one of my titles or my name was certainly a humble beginning to this endeavor, but I expected no less than that when dealing with an underling of the Goblin Nation. I followed Barktoe for a few minutes through the various passageways until we came to a modest wooden door with a name inscribed in gobbledygook on it. Barktoe knocked on it three times and then opened it when he heard the voice from within. __I stepped by the young goblin and he turned and scurried away with all speed as if he had many unknown tasks to perform. I entered the room and saw an older goblin, behind a massive desk, hunched over a large book and checking figures with a very long feathered quill._

"_What do you want wizard? I have little time today to put up with idle chatter about any inconsequential matters you may have."_

_I looked around for a chair in the office to sit on but there was none to be seen. I waved my hand and conjured an easy chair to rest on. The touch of magic caused the goblin to look up with a snarl. "You'd best be brief but seeing as you were knowledgeable enough not to pull a wand in Goblin Territory, I will give you five minutes and then begin charging you for my time."_

"_Thank you, Head Accountant…?"_

"_You know my name is Senior Accountant Snaggletoth. You have certainly been here with one of my clients, James Charlus Potter enough times to remember it."_

"_Yes, of course, Senior Accountant Snaggletoth. It is a matter relating to the Potters that I must meet with you. "_

"_You are mentioned in their wills but that will not be read until the Potter heir is at least 11 years of age. I cannot do anything about anything they may have left you."_

"_It is not the contents of James or Lily's will that bring me here today. It is a matter of their son's inheritance that drive my actions to meet you."_

"_How?" Snaggletoth asked pointedly._

_I stood up slowly and pulled an envelope out from my robes and dropped it carefully on the desk. "I have been appointed Guardian of Heir Potter by the decree of the Wizengamot."_

"_There are others foresworn than you to do that duty wizard."_

"_I am very well aware of that Snaggletoth but the Ministry of Magic has named me as the one responsible for raising the Potter heir. Others that were in place are no longer in a position to take that responsibility. Sirius Black has just been sent to Azkaban for his betrayal of the Potters."_

_The goblin shook his head but opened up the envelope to read the decree. The compulsion potion that I had I had soaked the parchment in began to affect the Accountant. "This is highly unusual circumstances then."_

"_Perhaps a personal understanding between us may help make the transactions to pay for the proper raising of Harry Potter more reasonable for everyone then. You are of the Stoneflake Clan if I read the symbol behind your desk correctly?"_

"_**Are you threatening me?" **__the Goblin thundered as he half rose from his chair._

"_**No, NO!**__ Nothing of the sort. I was just thinking of the investments that the adult Potters made in the name of their son. The normal royalty for guiding those investments is a 2% return for you and your clan."_

"_That is correct."_

"_Perhaps I can raise that to a __** four percent **__return for your assistance in guiding the Potter account."_

"_**Eight**__ percent wizard. The offer comes close to bribery and could result in my death and punishment for my clan."_

"_I think that a 5% commission would result in generous sum of gold and keep the suspicions down from other clans and Ragnorak."_

_Senior Accountant Snaggletoth sat back in his chair and went through a number of calculations on a piece of scratch parchment he drew from a drawer. I tried not to stare at him as he worked on the offer I made._

"_Very well Dumbledore. I accept the designation that the Wizengamot has giver you. How may I help the Potter Heir's guardian today?"_

"_I wish to withdraw 10,000 galleons from the Potter trust vault to set up a household and provisions for the care of Harry Potter."_

_The goblin pushed a button on his desk and Barktoe knocked and admitted himself to the office._

"_Take Headmaster Dumbledore to vault number 421 and remain waiting until he has done his business there."_

_Barktoe bowed and led me away from the office. I turned in the doorway and made a nod to Senior Accountant Snaggletoth. "High profits and rewards for your service Clan Leader."_

"_Go away wizard. You will certainly get the rewards you seek…"_


End file.
